


Father of The Year

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5x03, A Matter of Trust, Angst, Episode Related, F/M, Felicity's pep talks, Fluff, Missing Scene Fic, dad!Oliver, episode reaction fic, in which Oliver and Felicity are vigilante parents, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: "Do you know the new kids call us mom and dad?"Episode reaction/missing scene fic for 5x03 "A Matter of Trust".





	

It was a conversation he’d overheard, completely unintentionally, between Rene and Evelyn that had him reaching for the photograph in the drawer under the computer station, a photograph so painfully familiar to him that he touched it, looked at it, with great reluctance each time he took it out, yet once he did, he never wanted to put it back again. 

It was, after all, the only thing Oliver had left of his son.

The photograph, a small one, showing William standing in the shade of a huge apple tree in the backyard of his old home in Central City, a strawberry popsicle in his hand, was the one thing he had asked Samantha for before they had left...wherever they’d gone. “Something to remember him by,” he’d pleaded, the last time he ever saw her. In return, she’d given him the photograph.

Oliver looked at it now, unfolding it with care, running his fingers over the frozen image of the child he had sent away to protect, remembering everything that had happened since then with a burning in the back of his throat he hadn’t felt since the day Felicity walked out on him. 

He asked himself every day whether he’d done the right thing.

 He also regretted it sorely, every day, that things hadn’t been able to work out differently.

The new team, taking in these young, determined proteges and training them, teaching them what he knew, helping to shape them into _something else_ , had brought all of those feelings and thoughts back to the surface. 

He wondered if Felicity had been thinking of the same things, remembering a better - and then a more sorrowful - time. 

Clutching the photograph in one hand, Oliver pressed two fingers to his eyes with the other, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. It was stupid, he knew - it had been _months_  - but he couldn’t help himself; each reminder of what had happened was like another knife in his heart, the organ more of a pincushion these days than a life-provider. On each one was a name; _William. Laurel. Diggle. Thea. Felicity_. And each time a new knife was thrust into his chest, it left less and less space for anything else. 

No wonder he was barely holding everything together. 

“ _I can’t keep my people in line...as Mayor or as Green Arrow.”_

He hadn’t meant to lash out so violently against Rene. Not really. Yes, he’d made a mistake by going out after Sampson on his own, without support or any kind of back up (Evelyn didn’t count), and that mistake had come with heavy consequences, but once he’d had time to cool off and _think_ , he’d been ashamed of the way he’d acted. 

Oliver had been so sure that he was getting better that these things. That he was un-learning some of the things that had been embedded so deeply into his mind over the last ten years. The truth was, though he had come so far, it still wasn’t anywhere near enough. Not for himself, and not for others. 

Especially others. 

So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the _clack_ of Felicity’s heels on the platform until she was right behind him, her perfume filling the air, something floral and sweet that made him catch his breath involuntarily. 

“Still beating yourself up over your less than stellar disciplining of Rene and Evelyn?” she asked, coming to rest her hands on his shoulders. Her nail polish was bright pink and contrasted sharply with the white of his shirt. 

God, the way she _knew_  him, so completely, was a whole other knife all on its own. _She knows me but doesn’t want to be with me_.

When he didn’t reply, Felicity continued, “I get it. I was angry, too. I actually felt like a mother yelling at her child for breaking a very expensive vase. Suddenly, I understood my Mom’s anger when I spilled purple hair dye on the carpet when I was fifteen.”

The story had its intended effect; Oliver snorted, despite himself, smiling, and turned to look at her at last. 

“Granted, I never created a super-powered human with a hair dye stain, but...” she shrugged. “Do you know the new kids call us mom and dad?”

Oliver started at that, the photograph dropping from his fingers onto the floor. 

“They - really?” he stuttered, bending to pick it up frantically before Felicity saw it, before things got awkward. 

“Yeah. Curtis told me. Apparently we’re the guardians of ‘St. Arrow’s Home For Wayward Vigilantes’”, she explained, using air quotes around the name. “They think of us as their parents, I guess.”

“I honestly don’t know what to say about that,” Oliver confessed with an unsure smile. “I don’t....I mean, these are - they’re _trainees._ We’re training them, not fostering them.”

_I don’t want to be their surrogate dad._

_I can’t even be a real dad._

“I think it’s kind of sweet,” Felicity said, resting one hand on her hip and the other on the back of the chair Oliver sat in. “Though I’m pretty sure I won’t be getting a ‘World’s Best Mommy’ mug from Rory any time soon...” she muttered, low under her breath.

“I don’t-”, Oliver began, but found that words failed him. He was having trouble breathing properly; his chest felt tight, like an iron fist was clenching his lungs, and he couldn’t look Felicity in the eye. Not about this. 

Not when they were talking about _children_ , their so-called adoptive children, the joke that Rene and Evelyn saw themselves as their son and daughter.

It was all too much.

“I’m sure William is doing fine,” Felicity said quietly, suddenly. As if she had cracked open his skull and _saw_  what he was thinking about. “He’s safe. He’s happy.”

“I miss him,” he said. “It’s ridiculous, I only knew him for a few months, but - I _miss_   _him_.”

“Oh, Oliver,” Felicity whispered, reaching to squeeze his shoulder in a gesture of affection. 

They’d never talked about William before. Not since the break-up. Not even _before_  the break-up, after Darhk had kidnapped him. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, shaking himself back to reality all of a sudden. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to - talk about him. You probably don’t wanna hear about it.”

“ _I_ was the one who brought it up,” she pointed out. 

“Do you think I’m doing a good job?” Oliver asked. “With the new team? With everything?”

“Yeah,” Felicity nodded, her eyes soft, a gentle smile on her face. She squeezed his shoulder again. “Yeah, I do. You won’t be winning _Father of the Year_  anytime soon - and we _will_  talk more about your disciplining abilities - but, with all things considered?”

“You’re not doing so bad.”


End file.
